If Tomorrow Never Comes
by iviscrit
Summary: "There was plenty to celebrate, but she had no heart for any of it. As far as she was concerned, tomorrow never came." Kuvira wins the city, but loses what was most important to her. Baavira. For Selkit.


"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No," Kuvira had said, "I need you in the airship. Besides, by this time tomorrow the United Republic will be ours, and we'll go down in history as the greatest leaders in centuries." She withdrew her hands from his as the lieutenant stuck his head into her tent.

"Everyone is ready to deploy, commander."

"I'll be out right away," she said. The man had nodded, leaving them. "Are you ready?" she asked, tipping her head back and returning her hands to his.

"I've never been more ready," Baatar said, tugging her closer. "Is everything still running smoothly? No glitches in the automated forward movement?"

"Everything is perfect," she had reassured him, standing on her tiptoes for a quick kiss. "I'll see you after it's all over, all right?"

He stopped her, catching her hand as she prepared to leave. "One more kiss for luck?"

Kuvira rolled her eyes. "We've wasted enough time, there'll be plenty to celebrate tomorrow."

"All right," he said, letting go with a smile. "I love you."

"And I you," she had said, her voice casual, and she impulsively blew him a kiss. "Now enough, get to your post."

It seemed like centuries had passed since that moment, when she thought about it now.

"We've checked the area, Your Eminence," the voice crackled through the speakers. "There are no survivors. The United Republic is yours."

Kuvira cast around for something to say. Perhaps _outstanding_, she thought. _Wonderful_, or maybe a simple acknowledgment that she had heard the message. She was mute; everything sounded wrong. Everything _was_ wrong.

"Commander?"

"The avatar is dead?" Her voice sounded confused to her own ears, and she tried to forget the break in his voice, tried to forget that her final words to him had been over the radio.

"Yes, commander. We have the prince's bodyguard in custody, as well as Varrick and Bolin—"

The lieutenant was still speaking, but she barely registered what he was saying. She could hear the troops cheering, and she nodded distractedly when Xi radioed to inform her of Raiko's official surrender of the republic. Above the din of premature celebrations around her and the pandemonium of the United Forces troops being taken as prisoners, she could hear the beloved voice as clearly as if she were playing his final message to her, before she had silenced it forever.

"_All that matters is that we're together for the rest of our lives."_

Nothing really mattered anymore.

"We've returned the civilians to their homes, commander," her chief of staff informed her as she walked through the camp, the soldiers celebrating the easiest victory they had ever encountered and the mecha-suits powering down with a whirring of gears. "The current government has accepted your terms and will meet with you at your leisure… shall I send an envoy to escort Raiko and his cabinet to your quarters tonight?"

"That will not be necessary," Kuvira said, her voice clipped. "Where are the bodies?"

The man paused, clasping his arms in front of him and bowing his head. "They've already been moved to the medical tent."

Her heart leapt for a moment, and the words left her impulsively, foolishly. "There were survivors?" She could almost hear the twins' laughter, see Opal's shy smile and Suyin's frown, and feel the steady metronome of Baatar's heartbeat—

"There were no survivors, commander." Her officer placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Of course," she said. "Yes, I knew that."

"The vice president is with the rest," he continued awkwardly. "We can clear the tent if you would... like a moment alone.."

"Thank you," she said, her hands behind her back as they reached the tent, nodding to the staff as they murmured empty congratulations in hushed voices, their heads bowed as they passed her. "Xi," she said, her voice cracking, "order all banners to be flown at half-mast."

"Yes, commander."

"And tell the troops that there will be no festivities tonight," she added, her eyes fixed on the body swathed in white linen on the table before her. "And tell the cabinet I am not to be disturbed until I send word."

"Commander," her army general said carefully, "would you care to stay in the Republic City Four Elements hotel? A change of scene might help—"

"No." She took another step toward the table, her hands already shaking at the thought of pulling back the sheet.

"Perhaps—"

"I said no," she said sharply. The Four Elements meant silk sheets and richly carved furniture and the expansive presidential suite, and the thought alone was making her nauseous. _"What do you think_?" she had asked him that night, her hair down around her shoulders and his glasses on the nightstand, his kisses shooting tingly warmth through her skin as his hands ghosted over her bare limbs. "_Could you see me as a queen?" _

"Is there anything you need?" Xi said, jolting her from the memory as he hovered by the entrance.

"No," she said. "Leave us." _You_, she reminded herself. _Just you, there is no 'us' now_.

"As you wish, commander." The door panel slid back into place with the grate of metal on metal, and she shuddered, the sound taking her back to countless evenings in the lab watching Baatar building his prototypes.

"I love you," she said once she was able to find her voice again. "I'm sorry. I had no choice." The body beneath the shroud was silent, and she thought she might scream. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the edge, trying not to look at the various stains of red that had bled through the sheet. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "The city is ours…"

His face was easily recognizable, which made seeing him that much worse. He was pale, his lips bloodless and his left cheek split with a gash that ran from his jaw to the center of his cheekbone. His glasses were missing a lens and his hair was mussed, dust from the rubble and blood from his injuries easily visible in the dark strands. Someone had closed his eyes, and she wondered what was worse: to never see her favorite shade of green one last time, or to stare into the lifeless, unseeing gaze of the only man she had ever loved.

She tugged off one of her gloves, cupping his unmarked cheek. The skin was cold to her touch, the beginnings of stubble like hot pins to her flesh rather than the pleasantly rough feel of his cheek she had expected. "You would have done the same," she said, as if saying it aloud made it better. "You understand, don't you, Baatar? It wasn't you. I had no choice." The body was silent, the lips bloodless. "I…" Her voice trailed off, and she moved away from the table when the first of her silent, choked tears fell on his collar. No breath came from the corpse, no fond words from the lips, and she stood before the entrance as her muted cries shook her frame and threatened to draw the attention of their officers. She returned to the table to pull the sheet back over his face, resisting the impulse to stay with him until all of her tears were spent.

She left with dry eyes though she knew they were bloodshot, her cheeks reddened and raw to her touch. The troops were silent when she finally emerged, and she vaguely recalled ordering funeral preparations for the next day as she neared the end of the solitary trek to her tent. She remembered with a pang that after the victory, they had intended to start their wedding plans.

"_One more kiss for luck?" _

"_We've wasted enough time, there'll be plenty to celebrate tomorrow_."

There was plenty to celebrate, but she had no heart for any of it. As far as she was concerned, tomorrow never came.

* * *

**A/N: I regret nothing. IT'S OKAY GUYS IT ISNT REALLLLLLL**


End file.
